


gemini, of reunions

by discordiansamba



Series: the stars shine a different shine [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, M/M, Roleswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-02 13:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19442224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discordiansamba/pseuds/discordiansamba
Summary: He should have known Kerberos was too good for him. It was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped.He just didn't expect it to bealiens.(or, a roleswap au between keith and shiro)





	1. aries, of blood and luxite

**Author's Note:**

> It's time.. time for gladiator Keith! Champion Keith! That's the good stuff right there. I have plans to follow this up in the near future with a chapter that will follow Shiro's POV, explaining why this whole crew is just chilling in Keith's shack and leading up to the discovery of the blue lion and possibly their landing on Arus. I don't know if I'll cover the part where they actually become paladins or not! We'll see!
> 
> For those of you just joining us, this is an age/partial roleswap between Keith and Shiro, so Keith is 25 and Shiro is 18. I've already written some pre-Kerberos stuff for this AU, so go check them out if you haven't already!

Kerberos had been the chance of a lifetime.

He'd recognized at the time that it was _too_ good of a chance for him. He'd kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to be pulled from the mission and replaced at the last second, but it never happened. The launch went as planned, with him as the pilot, just like Sam wanted. He'd gotten his wish of going to space, and for awhile, everything seemed good.

At some point, he stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He really should have known better.

Even worse, this time he'd dragged innocent people along with him. He didn't even know where Sam and Matt _were_. He'd been separated from them shortly after their capture, and hadn't seen them since. All he could do was hope that they were still alive, and be grateful that he hadn't seen them in the arena. It was no place for them.

He, however, fit right in.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Keith shoved his hair back behind his ears. They wouldn't let him have anything to tie it up with, on the theory that he might somehow use it in the weapon- which was probably fair, he would. He'd debated maybe chopping it off just to be done with it, but he was too stubborn to. Changing himself to fit the arena just meant that he had resigned himself to being here, and he didn't want to do that.

Maybe this was karma. Maybe he deserved this. But Sam and Matt were still out there somewhere, and they didn't. He had to stay alive and find them, and then find a way to get away from the Galra, if not back to Earth. He didn't even know how many lightyears they were away from the planet he'd once called home, but had never truly been a part of.

For a long time, he'd always wondered why he'd never managed to fit in. It only took him twenty-five years and an alien abduction for him to find out why.

"The Champion fells yet another challenger!" A voice boomed over the speakers, more for the benefit of the audience than him. "Even diluted, Galra blood holds strong!"

_Galra blood_. He wished he could deny it, but not being fully human explained so much. It wasn't like he'd ever known his mother. Guess everyone who had called him a freak had been right.

Narrowing his eyes, Keith gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. He refused to drop his gaze, instead lifting it to stare at the crowd. Instinctively it fell on the most prominent location, the viewing box reserved for the monster who ran this whole show- Emperor Zarkon, ruler of the Galra Empire- and from the sound of it, much of the known universe. He wasn't present today, nor was his witch- and frankly, he was more grateful for her absence than he was for his.

He was too familiar with her already.

The crowd cheered- or they might have jeered. It was all the same to him. They might have slapped him with the fancy title of Champion, but he was just another prisoner to them. The fact that he shared at least half his blood with them didn't change the fact that he was here for nothing more than their entertainment, in the form of a violent, cruel bloodsport that forced him to fight other prisoners in a life or death match.

He tried not to kill any of them anyways. _Tried_ being the optimal word.

He hadn't been successful today. The alien was too persistent, too determined- he'd faced a lot of aliens like that lately. They should have all be on the same side, all prisoners of the Empire, but they took his title as Champion as a challenge. If they defeated them, they could show the Galra that they weren't all they were cracked up to be. His supposed Galra blood didn't help matters much either. For something that had been a secret all his life, even from him, the Galra certainly didn't hesitate to advertise it.

Probably to illicit just this reaction, Keith thought, watching as the sentries dragged the dead prisoner away. He didn't know if their kind believed in any kind of afterlife, but if they did, he hoped they found peace in it. He wished he could muster more regret, but he'd spent too much time on the battlefield even before this to let it effect him too deeply.

He wondered if that was the Galra part of him.

"Is there anyone among you who seeks to challenge the Champion?" The announcer boomed. "Who among you can show the halfbreed the true might of the Galra Empire?"

Keith felt himself almost grin. He hated fighting prisoners, but this was the one part of this whole _Champion_ thing that he actually _liked_. He'd already fought nearly half a dozen Galra stupid enough to take the bait, keen on proving to him their might, the superiority of their pure Galra blood over his mixed blood. None of them had succeeded thus far, and most of them were now dead. They would rather die trying to defeat him than accept their loss to a prisoner of mixed blood.

Victory or death, the Galra way.

He might pity the prisoners, but as far as he was concerned, one less bloodsport-loving asshole was to the good of everyone. He welcomed their challenges, no matter how dangerous they could be. It hadn't even been that long since he'd lost his left leg in one, though he hadn't been without it for long. Thinking about it made where it connected to his knee itch, but he resisted the urge to scratch it.

It was the witch's handiwork.

"Ah!" The announcer declared. "A challenger rises!"

Looking up, Keith followed the gaze of the crowd to pinpoint the person stupid enough to fight him. Even from here, he could tell the lieutenant was at least twice as tall as him, but it didn't intimidate him in the slightest. He'd endured too much for it to.

Raising his sword, he pointed it in their direction, baring his teeth in what he now knew to be an aggressive Galran gesture. If they thought he was going to just roll over and die, they had another thing coming.

* * *

Leaning back against the cold wall of his cell, Keith scratched his right cheek for the umpteenth time. The claw marks on the side of his face had long since healed, leaving behind scars- he'd just been lucky that he hadn't lost his eye. It had been the desperate attempt of a prisoner to break away from him, fearful that he was about to kill them- he hadn't, but the fear had been understandable.

They still itched sometimes, and though he usually tried to resist, there wasn't much to occupy him in the confines of his small cell. At least, not at the moment.

The boredom was still better than serving his role as a gladiator, and lightyears better than serving as a test subject for Zarkon's witch, but it was still bad. He'd never handled being confined to small spaces that well, but small spaces he couldn't leave freely were the worst. It reminded him too much of the countless hours spent in the back of some social worker's car, being driven from one foster home to the next.

He'd felt like a prisoner in some of those homes. Now that he was residing in an actual prison, he was starting to understand just how accurate those comparisons had been.

Closing his eyes, he dropped his hand away from his face, heaving a long sigh. Occasionally they kept him off of the arena floor just to build anticipation for his return, and now was one of those such times. He wasn't sure how much time had passed between now and his last match- it was hard to keep track of time around here. He was almost positive it had been longer than three days, but he couldn't be sure.

All he knew was that it was too long.

He didn't mind not fighting. That was fine. _More_ than fine, actually. It was the lack of anything else to do that got to him.

While small, his cell was still at least big enough to move around in. He could do basic exercises, stuff like that, but nothing else. He'd already worked up a sweat earlier, which left him with nothing to do but think. Usually he spent the time trying to think up a way to escape, or a way to find Sam and Matt, but he'd currently exhausted all of his options. He'd definitely made no shortage of escape attempts. He was almost as infamous for them as he was for his status as Champion. None of them had ever come close to succeeding, but that never stopped him. If he saw a chance, he took it.

That said, in doing so he'd used up most of his more obvious options. He had to be a little more careful and a lot less impulsive if he was actually going to get out of here.

Wherever _here_ was. He knew he was on some kind of a massive ship, he just didn't know _where_. In space, obviously, but he had no frame of reference for just how far he was from Earth. And as he was starting to learn, space was much, _much_ bigger than he'd originally anticipated.

At times like these, there wasn't much left to contemplate other than things he didn't want to think about. Like his false leg, or if Sam and Matt really were still alive. Even those topics were better than dwelling on his own origins, but that was where his thoughts were taking him today. He'd always wondered why he had been so drawn to space, but now he had his answer- it was all the fault of his alien blood.

His mother's fault.

Narrowing his eyes, Keith dug his nails into the flimsy fabric of his prison clothes. His mom was one of those topics he tried not to think about in general, even back on Earth. There had never been an easy answer- she'd left him and his dad shortly after he'd been born, so she sounded like some kind of deadbeat, but his dad... the way he looked when he spoke about her, the way he sounded when he'd told him that she'd loved him, and that she didn't want to leave... he couldn't help but want to believe that.

After his dad died, when he was still young enough to be that naive, he used to have fantasies about her showing up out of the blue to take him back. Of course, he never knew what she looked like, so her appearance changed almost every time. There weren't any photos of her around the house, not even so much as a name.

He was starting to get why now.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got at his father. Why hadn't he told him something this important? Maybe if he'd _known_ -

-then what? He'd somehow magically fit in better? Would he have ended up as something other than a mercenary soldier? Would his dad not have died? Even if he knew what he was, he didn't think that would change. Getting a job as a Galaxy Garrison test pilot had been like a miracle, and actually becoming a pilot for what was to be their most historic mission to date was way more than he probably ever deserved.

He'd even been able to befriend Sam and his family, but look where it had gotten them. Sam and Matt might not even be alive, and Colleen and Katie... he didn't know how he could ever apologize to them, supposing he _did_ see them again, which he doubted. They had trusted him with the lives of their family, and he'd failed them.

Sure, maybe the Galra were to blame for that. But _he_ was Galra too.

For all he knew, this could all still be _his_ fault. Maybe all this time, he'd just been some kind of sleeper agent. Maybe his father had just been tricked. Maybe his mother was just as awful as the rest of them.

The only thin thread of hope he had that it wasn't true was the fact that he'd been asked- _interrogated_ , actually- about his parents, his mother specifically. He didn't have any answers to give them, even after one of Haggar's cronies had rooted through his memories. They had left it well enough alone after that, not finding the answers they sought.

The only thing he had that connected him to her was his knife- and he'd left that back on Earth. Part of him was almost glad it was safe, but part of him was overcome by the desire to shoot it out the nearest airlock and be done with it. Not that the Galra would have let him keep it if he'd brought it with him, but...

Maybe it was for the best. It was still a memento of his father. He was sure Shiro would take care of both it and his hoverbike, just like he'd promised. It sucked that he wasn't going to be there for his and Adam's graduation, nor Katie's enrollment into the Garrison- if she even wanted to join them anymore, now that one of their missions had caused the disappearance of her father and older brother.

Knowing how the Garrison did things, he wouldn't be surprised if they'd declared them dead. He doubted Admiral Sanda would be willing to confess the truth, that aliens had been involved in their disappearance. Better and easier to just pass them off as dead. He grimaced at the thought- not so much for himself, but for Sam and Matt. He didn't think there was anyone who would mourn him.

Shiro maybe, and Adam too, but they'd get past it. They were both resilient kids, and it wasn't like he was _that_ important to them anyways. If they just took care of his dad's hoverbike in his stead, maybe cleaned the shack on occasion, that would be enough for him.

It just sucked that Sam's name would inevitably be dragged through the mud. He'd fought for him to be the pilot of this mission, and it wasn't hard to guess that the Garrison would exploit that weak spot. Turn as much negative press away from them as possible, pin it all on a dead man's misplaced choice.

Maybe Admiral Sanda had been right. Maybe none of this would have happened if they hadn't picked him. The past few years at the Garrison had been some of the best since before his dad passed, so he should have really known that it was bound to come to an end at some point. He just hadn't anticipated how badly he'd crash and burn.

Picking up on the sound of heavy, metallic footsteps, he opened his eyes. The next patrol wasn't for another three minutes, and he'd just been fed not that long ago. His cell was the only one on this block that was occupied, which could only mean one thing.

His break from the arena was over.

* * *

He knew something was up from the moment the visitor entered his cell.

For one thing, he wasn't accompanied by any sentries. He recognized the man- he was a technician named Ulaz, who sometimes worked on his leg. In day to day usage, it would probably only require infrequent maintenance, but fighting in the arena day in and day out meant that it had to be looked after a lot more often. Thankfully, though his leg was Haggar's work, she'd delegated the actual maintenance of it to other people.

Ulaz was one of them.

He'd never actually introduced himself, but he was still familiar with his name. He'd heard him called by it once or twice. He was oddly... he didn't want to say kind, because he wasn't. But he wasn't _cruel_. His maintenance checks were purely professional. He never talked outside of asking the standard questions, but he never taunted him either, and didn't try to purposefully cause him pain like some of the others.

"Come with me." Ulaz said. The urgency in his voice made him frown.

Keith eyed him warily. No sentries, no visible restraints... something about this wasn't right.

"Why should I?" Keith asked.

"Because," Ulaz began, locking eyes with him for the first time since he had met him, "-I am helping you get out of here."

Now fully alert, but more suspicious than ever, Keith got to his feet. A Galra wanted to help him escape? Even if Ulaz wasn't as awful as the rest of his captors, that didn't make any sense to him. Was this some kind of trick?

"Why should I trust you?" Keith asked.

Ulaz didn't drop his gaze even as he pulled out a hidden knife. Keith braced himself for an attack, but none came- instead, he merely held the knife towards him, so that he could see the symbol that emblazoned on its hilt.

The _very_ familiar symbol.

"Because I knew your mother." Ulaz told him.

For all that he had said it so easily, his words left Keith reeling. He knew his mother? And his knife... the shape of the blade was different, but the symbol on it was the same. When he'd first seen the symbol of the Galra Empire, he'd thought they were similar, but this one was an exact match. Even the way the blade glinted in the low light of his cell seemed the same.

Did he have some kind of connection to his mother? Had she... had she sent him?

He had a million questions he wanted to ask, but the one that came out was, "-why now?"

Why _now_ , after all this time? He wasn't just talking about all the time that he had spent in captivity, though that was a part of it, yeah. But... why now? Why not after his father died? Why not any of countless times that he'd needed her, even long after he'd given up on his childish fantasy of her coming to his rescue? Why not _then_?

Why now, when he was already an adult?

Had she even sent Ulaz at all, or was he just doing this out of his own free will? Why wasn't she here herself? Didn't she care?

Who even was she?

He felt like a child again, back in the office of his first social worker. Compared to the inquires of Haggar's druids, her persistent questions about his mother seemed almost gentle in retrospect, but at the time, he remembered feeling more alienated and alone than ever- fitting, since it turned out his mother was _actually_ an alien.

Ulaz put away his knife, all the while looking directly at him, but he couldn't bring himself to do the same. He didn't know what to think. First he was told his mother was Galra, and now a Galra that was associated with her somehow was helping him escape? Was it just sentiment? He didn't think the Galra were capable of such a thing.

(But then, what was it that his father had fallen in love with?)

"I know you must have questions," Ulaz began, "-but we only have time for one."

Looking up, Keith blinked, caught off guard by how... not kind, but how _understanding_ Ulaz sounded. He wanted to get angry- how could he possibly understand what he had gone through? He'd been searching all his life for the reason why he was so different from everyone else, and when he found the answer, he wished he hadn't.

It was all because of his alien mother, who came from a war-like race of conquerors. Maybe it was always his fate that to end up in war. He was bred for it, it was in his blood. Maybe _that_ was why life always tried to punish him every time he just tried to live in peace.

"What does the knife mean?" Keith finally asked, too afraid to ask the question he wanted most. "My mother, she left one just like it for me."

"It is a ceremonial blade." Ulaz replied, and for a second, he thought that was going to be it. So he was surprised when Ulaz chose to continue. "All those in the Blade of Marmora carry on."

Keith's brows knit together. "The Blade of Marmora?"

"Not all Galra follow Zarkon's rule." Ulaz said simply, in spite of the fact that he'd only promised one answer. "Now come on."

Keith hesitated, unsure if he should follow him or not. There were Galra who fought against Zarkon? And his mother was one of them? It almost sounded too good to be true, so much so that he had trouble believing it in spite of the evidence to the contrary.

He'd never been great at trusting people to begin with, but to trust a _Galra_? What if this was all just some sort of trap? Maybe this was a new form of entertainment for the fans of the arena. Watching their Champion at his most pathetic state, and then laugh as his hopes were crushed right before him. It sounded like something they would do.

And yet... part of him wanted to trust this strange Galra- and by extension, his mother.

He followed Ulaz.

* * *

So he'd admit it. That wasn't his best landing.

Stumbling out of the pod, Keith frowned, turning to look back at the wreckage. It was great that he had survived and all, but he didn't think the escape pod would ever be of much use again. He was just lucky he'd survived.

Not luck, he corrected himself- _skill_. He might not have been able to fly anything for over a year, but crashing aside, it didn't seem like his skills had gotten that rusty. He'd done pretty well considering he was flying an alien spacecraft. He'd just miscalculated how it would handle entry into Earth's atmosphere.

(It didn't, as it turned out.)

Earth. Turning away from the wreck, he took a deep breath, night air filling his lungs. The scent of the desert, the sounds... it was all just like it was when he'd left it. This was home. _His_ home, alien blood or not. He might be part Galra, but he was human too. He'd been born and raised on this planet, and even though maybe not all of his memories were good- a lot of them were _bad_ , actually- he still found that he wanted to protect this place, these people.

He'd seen terrible things during his time as mercenary. _Done_ terrible things. He knew how capable humans were of cruelty firsthand, but there were still good people out there. If the Galra came, they would be the ones to suffer first.

People like Shiro and Adam, like Colleen and Katie. He couldn't let that happen.

He just needed to find this _blue lion_ thing before the Galra did.

Huffing slightly, Keith took a second to take stock of his surroundings. He couldn't stay here much longer, not unless he wanted the Garrison to swoop in. If he got them involved, it might take him forever to get clearance to leave, if he was even allowed to do that much. He'd been abducted by aliens, only to return to Earth a year later, crashing an alien spaceship into the desert- not to mention the fact that he had an alien prosthetic.

Oh right. There was the part where he was half-alien too. Couldn't forget that.

So yeah, he was better off avoiding the Garrison for now. He'd get in contact with Colleen and Katie if he could, but for now, they weren't his priority. The blue lion was.

(He felt bad about it, but there was nothing he could do. Just like there had been no way for him to save Matt and Sam and bring them home with him. Even Ulaz didn't know where they were, only that they were 'probably alive'. Not very reassuring.)

The desert was pitch black- not even the moon was out, and the stars were all hidden behind a thin layer of clouds. It didn't trouble him at all- in hindsight, his night vision must have been a Galra trait. He'd never had any trouble navigating the dimly lit ships of the Galra Empire, so maybe his mother's people were a species who did best under low light. He didn't dwell on it long, quickly moving away from the shuttle. He had a rough idea of where his shack was and how to get there- he'd thought about landing the pod near it, but he'd quickly discarded the idea. Even if he hadn't crashed, the Garrison would have picked up on his pod landing, and the last thing he wanted to do was lead them right to him.

He'd get back to the shack, take a shower, grab a change of clothes, and set out looking for this blue lion. Ulaz had given him only a brief, extremely unhelpful description of it- it was supposed to be some kind of superweapon, one that the Galra Empire couldn't be allowed to get their hands on. And it was, supposedly, hidden somewhere on Earth.

In the desert.

Near his childhood home.

Keith frowned, not sure if he liked where his thoughts were taking him. Had his dad known about it? Had his _mom_? Was that why she'd come here?

He shook the thought off. He'd decided to trust Ulaz for now, and this _Blade of Marmora_ he claimed both he and his mother worked for. Checking to see that the transponder he had given him was still securely tucked away in his boot, he started navigating his way through the desert. He stopped every now and then to erase his tracks, making it harder for him to be followed.

Some distance away from the crashed pod, he made out the distant lights of what surely were Garrison vehicles. Looks like he was right on the money.

He made haste after that. He might be quick on his feet, but he wasn't quick enough to outrun a moving vehicle if it came down to it, so better not be caught in the first place. For all he knew, the Garrison might have gone through his physical results again and came to the conclusion that his results were way too anomalous to be human. The last thing he wanted was to end up strapped to a table somewhere. He'd had enough of that with the Galra, he didn't need to experience it on his own home planet.

He only slowed down again when he was sure no one was following him. In spite of running full steam across the desert sands for several solid minutes, he was barely even winded. His stamina was probably just another thing about him that was Galra- at this point, he was starting to wonder just what it was about him that was even _human_ , other than his looks. He knew his physical results had always been enough to shoot people's brows through the roof, but maybe he was more alien than he'd ever realized.

His hand strayed self-consciously towards the white streak that ran through his hair. He wasn't sure when it had appeared, just like he wasn't sure if it was due to his Galra blood, or if it was just because of the stress. Hell, it could even be due to the quintessence for all he knew. Wouldn't surprise him.

Tucking the strand behind his ear, he huffed. He'd never really cared about his appearance, so he wasn't about to start now.

Finally he picked out the roof of his shack in the distance. He had to stop in his tracks, momentarily overcome by the fact that he'd been able to find his way back home, even after everything he'd been through. It sounded so impossible, that he was driven to pinch himself, to check and see if this was all just a dream.

It wasn't, but neither were the lights he could just barely make out in his shack. Narrowing his eyes, Keith felt a low growl bubble up in the back of his throat. There was no way it was the Garrison, so had someone taken up residence in his home while he was gone?

Clenching his fists, he stormed towards the shack without a second thought. He'd show them that there were consequences for invading a person's house! He didn't care if he was supposed to be dead, or if they thought it was just some random, abandoned shack. To him it was all he had left of his childhood home! To think that someone would just barge in and-

He came to a dead halt, the sound of a familiar voice stopping him in his tracks. At this distance, he couldn't pick out what they were saying, but there was no mistaking that voice. Shoulders slumping, Keith exhaled.

That voice was definitely Shiro's- and from the sound of it, Adam was with him. They both knew where the shack was, and he'd always let them come over whenever they wanted. If it was them in the shack, then it was fine.

Although... he wondered what had brought them out here so late at night. Judging from the position of the moon, it had to be well past midnight.

"I'm just saying," he heard Shiro say, "-I think we should check it out."

"And I'm saying that's not a good idea." He heard Adam respond. "By now it's probably crawling with people from the Garrison. If they find out that we snuck out past curfew, then we're _all_ in major trouble. They probably have the whole Garrison on lockdown by now."

"I mean," a third, entirely unexpected yet completely familiar, voice chimed in, "-technically we snuck out _before_ the lockdown started."

_Katie_. Why was Katie- he'd never brought her out to the shack before. The only member of the Holt family who had even come out here was Sam, and it had only been the one time. He didn't even think she knew where it was, much less that she knew Shiro and Adam. Then again, he had been gone for at least a year, if Ulaz was to be believed- maybe she'd joined the Garrison during that time?

"Uh, I'd just like to point out," a fourth voice chimed in, one that he definitely didn't recognize, "-that even if they buy that, it doesn't change the fact that we still all snuck out after curfew."

"Hey, no one said you two had to follow me." Katie snapped.

"Geez, calm down, Pidge." A fifth voice, also unfamiliar, said defensively. "No need to get so worked up. Anyways, I'm with Shiro. We should _totally_ check out whatever it was that crashed."

Coming to a dead halt, Keith blinked. He wasn't sure what he was more caught off guard by- the fact that there were like, _five_ people in his shack, two of whom he (probably) didn't even _know_ , or that they were talking about _him_. Or, well, sort of- to be more exact, they were talking about the pod he'd crashed. It made sense- there was no way they _hadn't_ seen that from here.

Hesitating, he shifted on his feet. Should he really go in there? Maybe he should just wait for them to leave- he didn't need to deal with any extra trouble right now.

But Katie was in there- and Shiro, and Adam too. All people he thought he would never see again. And while he had no idea who the other two voices belonged to, they had to be cadets, and there was no way he going to let himself be terrified of the prospect of potentially interacting with _children_. His social skills weren't _that_ bad, thanks.

Besides, this was his house! He shouldn't be nervous about going into his own house!

Sucking in a deep breath, he crossed the last remaining distance, until he was standing on the front porch of the shack. They must have heard him, because after a few not so hushed swears, everything inside went deadly quiet. Huffing slightly, Keith strode forward, the porch creaking with every step. He didn't miss how it creaked louder underneath his left foot than his right, but it seemed to hold up, at least.

Reaching for the handle, he swung it open. The cadets were in the process of hastily covering something up, but everyone froze at the sight of him- no one more so than Shiro, who Keith couldn't help but find first.

Shiro stared at him in disbelief. "Keith...?"

"What?" Keith began. "You thought you could have a slumber party at my house without inviting me?"

Shiro stared at him for a second longer, until he finally managed to snap his jaw shut. He nearly vaulted over the makeshift table and before he knew it, had him in a tight embrace. The part of his brain that still worked noted that he'd gotten taller since the last time he'd seen him- he was just shy of his chin now. He must have had a growth spurt while he was gone or something.

The rest of his brain was completely fried, however, having shorted out the second Shiro hugged him. He wasn't used to people doing that, so he didn't quite know what to make of it. He didn't think Shiro cared this much for him, even if they were on friendly terms. And sure, he'd sort of started to secretly think of Shiro like a kid brother over the years, but he'd thought that was just a one-sided thing- a misplaced longing for family from someone who hadn't had any in far too long.

(Except he had family now, didn't he? His mother was alive.)

"You're _alive_." Shiro whispered, like he was almost afraid to say it too loudly. Like acknowledging it would strike him dead.

Swallowing, Keith hesitantly returned the hug, forcing himself not to pay attention to the other four people in the room, all of whom were still gawking at his very not dead self. He knew how he must look- dirty and covered in grime, possibly even old, dried alien blood. He had a single sink in his cell with which to wash himself, and that was it. He could only imagine how matted his hair had gotten, and though his alien prosthetic wasn't visible with his shoes on, anyone could see his scars and the white streak in his hair.

Ugh, he probably smelled too. He wasn't sure how Shiro was even managing to hug him. He had to be thoroughly disgusting.

"Hey," Keith managed, "-it'll take more than being abducted by aliens to kill me."

"Aliens?" Adam asked softly, still rooted to his spot across the room. "So Pidge was right?"

Keith frowned, looking across the room towards Katie. _Pidge_ was a playful nickname her brother had given her, but he wasn't sure why she was going by it now. She met his eyes, a burning curiosity in her gaze, one that he knew he couldn't deny. He owed her an explanation, and then some.

"Aliens," Keith repeated, "-the Kerberos mission was abducted by aliens."


	2. gemini, of reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance didn't get to finish what he was saying, cut off by the lion itself. What he'd thought was simply just a ship stood up and roared, the sound filling the cavern and nearly drowning out Hunk and Pidge's cries of surprise- or maybe fear.
> 
> But all Shiro could feel was awe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of two! Probably the next time I update this series, I'll go back in time a bit to pre-Kerberos so I can write about Keith's relationship with the Holts in this verse. After that I'm not one hundred percent sure, but there's definitely a bunch of things that I want to touch on for this verse, so stay tuned, I guess? Anyways, thanks for reading!

Shiro anxiously shifted on his feet, listening to the sound of water coming from the other room. Keith was in there, and while he could hardly begrudge the man a shower, he also really wanted to hear about what had happened on Kerberos, and how he managed to find his way back to Earth.

Adam rested a hand on his shoulder, giving him an understanding smile. He returned it, resting his own hand over Adam's. He was glad he was here, even though he'd originally been against sneaking out of the Garrison tonight. He'd always been a bit more of a stickler for the rules than him, in spite of what his status as the Galaxy Garrison's 'golden boy' might suggest.

"So is that the real Keith Kogane?"

Peering around Adam, Shiro looked at the person who had spoken. He'd arranged beforehand to meet up with Pidge, but he hadn't expected to see his flight partners in tow. When he'd asked, he'd just shrugged and said that he couldn't find a way to ditch them. Thankfully he knew both of them- Lance McClain and Hunk Garrett were just a year under him, the former a cargo pilot and the other an engineer.

He didn't exactly talk to them that much, but he did know them. They had their own social circles, and as a cargo pilot, Lance was instructed by different teachers than him. He'd known that they were Pidge's assigned flight partners, but he hadn't realized that they were so close.

Although... based on the way Pidge was acting, neither had _Pidge_.

"That's him alright." Adam answered for him.

"Huh," Lance frowned, "-I always thought he'd be taller."

Shiro snorted in spite of himself. "Don't let him hear you say that."

Keith wasn't exactly _short_ , but he was still smaller than James Griffin, a fact which seemed to annoy him, though he'd never actually own up to it. He was pretty confident that in a few years, both he and Adam would overshoot him, though for now he was still shorter than the ex-mercenary.

"He used to be a mercenary, right?" Hunk asked nervously.

Shiro frowned. He was used to people giving Keith a wary berth due to his history, but it sort of bothered him coming from Hunk, who was otherwise so _nice_. "He's not like that."

He really wasn't. Stoic, maybe, but he'd never seen Keith be _violent_. He seemed to view his job at the Garrison as a kind of second chance, a way to redeem himself. From what, he never said- and Shiro never asked. It was the unspoken rule of their friendship that he wouldn't pry, and in turn, neither would Keith.

The sound of water stopped, cutting off all conversation. They waited almost with baited breath for Keith to emerge. His hair was still damp when he finally did, but it had been tied back into his customary ponytail, and he'd changed into clean clothes. He'd dug out his usual dark red aviator jacket and combat boots, though his usual pair of jeans looked oddly snug over his left leg. He was still fussing with it when he came out of the shower, only stopping when he realized that everyone was looking at him.

He mouthed a silent _oh_ , and Shiro briefly got the impression that he'd forgotten they were all there. Pulling his hand away from his left leg, he instead gave them all a curt nod.

"Cadets." He said stiffly.

"Mister Kogane." Shiro replied with a hint of mirth.

Keith just snorted, taking the towel that was around his shoulders and tossing it on a nearby chair, before he collapsed into it. Picking up the fingerless gloves he'd left behind, he tugged them on. "Just for the record, you _do_ know this is my house, right?"

"This is your _house_?" Lance asked, stunned. "But it's a-!"

"Don't finish that." Keith cut him off, then stared at him, perplexed. "Who are you anyways? One of Shiro's friends?"

"Well..." Lance trailed off, shifting on his feet.

"Yes." Shiro said quickly. "They're my friends. Keith, these are Lance, Hunk, and Pidge."

Keith frowned, his brows knitting together as he glanced in Pidge's direction, all but ignoring Lance and Hunk. "I know who Pidge is. You don't need to introduce h-"

"You said something about aliens." Pidge said quickly, cutting him off.

Shiro frowned, slightly curious as to what Keith was going to say. He wasn't aware that they even knew each other, seeing as Pidge had only joined the Garrison after the supposed failure of the Kerberos mission. Maybe they had met somewhere else? Plaht City wasn't _that_ far from here, and he was fairly confident that was where Pidge was from, even if he'd never actually specified. Contrary to his image, it wasn't like Keith was a _total_ hermit who never left his house and never talked to other people.

He was just... awkward. That was all. Like he'd missed a few steps here and there.

Keith's expression hardened, giving them a curt nod. "I did."

"So is it true?" Hunk asked. "Was the Kerberos mission really taken by aliens?"

"Yeah, the Garrison said you were all dead in space." Lance said.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" Keith asked, arching a brow. Hauling himself to his feet, he brushed past the cadets, peeking in the cabinets on the other side of the room that Shiro knew contained non-perishables. "You didn't eat all my food, did you?"

"Some of us have palates that are a little more sophisticated." Adam remarked dryly.

Frowning, Keith glanced back towards him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means not all of us can live off beans and pop-tarts." Adam said.

"And canned coffee." Shiro chimed in.

"And free bank lollipops." Pidge muttered, half under his breath. Shiro glanced his way, arching a slight brow. Guess he knew Keith pretty well if he new that little tidbit of information.

Keith huffed slightly, but it was impossible to decipher if he actually took offense at that statement. He dug out a can of beans, cracking it open with a small knife, ignoring the face Adam made as he proceeded to dig into it with a spoon, not even bothering to heat it up first. Hunk just looked aghast, but didn't dare say anything.

"So what's the Garrison's official story?" Keith asked. "No, wait, let me guess- it's me, isn't it? They said I crashed or something."

"Pretty much." Shiro frowned. "The media's not exactly painting the best picture of you. Admiral Sanda took a lot of heat for letting you fly the mission in the first place."

"What else is new?" Keith asked, apparently unperturbed by his own reputation.

"They say you bribed Commander Holt to let you fly the mission." Pidge said.

Arching a brow, Keith tilted his head. "Why are you talking about him like-"

Clearing his throat, Pidge glared at him. Whatever he was trying to silently convey, it was flying right over Keith's head. "Can we just get back to the aliens?"

"Aliens," Keith repeated, his expression somewhat clouded, almost indecipherable, "-right."

Shiro's frown deepened, taking the chance to take a good look at Keith. He had changed in the time he was gone- and not just physically either. The white streak in his otherwise dark hair stood out, but not as much as the claw marks on his face, raking his right cheek. The bags underneath his eyes had deepened, hinting at many sleepless nights. It was also in the way he held himself- a certain level of wariness that he hadn't quite had before.

Keith had always been wary, guarded. He'd spent too long on the battlefield, he'd told him once, in one of those rare moments he almost opened up about his time as a mercenary. It was a habit. But he'd eventually started to let his guard down around him and Adam.

Not anymore.

Finishing off the can of beans, he set it aside. "We made it to Kerberos just fine. We'd been there for about three days when they came. We didn't stand a chance."

"What about the rest of the crew?" Pidge asked.

Keith just shook his head, staring down at the floor. "I don't know. I was separated from them early on. I never saw them in the arena, so they might have been brought to one of the work camps instead."

"The arena?" Shiro asked, not liking the sound of that. "What's that?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." Keith said shortly. "Look, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that before long, they'll be coming _here_."

Hushed silence fell over the shack, broken only by the sound of Keith's boots on the wooden floor as he made his way across it a second time. They all watched in silence as he pried up one of the floorboards and pulled out a lockbox. Setting it down on the makeshift table, he glanced up at them, arching a brow.

"If you want to panic or something, don't let me stop you." Keith said.

"Panic?" Hunk nervously laughed. "Who's panicking? I mean, you only just said that a bunch of hostile aliens were headed our way."

Keith ducked his head, but not before Shiro saw something flash through his eyes. "Don't worry. If I find what I'm looking for, they should leave the Earth alone."

"What, you have something to chase away alien invaders in your sh- your house?" Lance asked incredulously.

"No?" Keith gave Lance a blank look. "Why would I have something like that in my house?"

Lance opened his mouth to respond, but quickly snapped it shut, apparently thinking better of it. Keith shrugged, turning his attention back to the lock box. He toyed with the padlock for a few seconds before he cracked it, opening the box.

Shiro blinked. He knew Keith was strong for his frame, but he hadn't thought he was quite _that_ strong. Then again, it could have just been a flimsy lock- or rusted. It had been sitting underneath the floorboards for at least a year, and the desert had a way of wearing things down when they weren't being properly maintained. He'd been doing regular maintenance on Keith's hoverbike for that very reason.

"Why are you here, anyways?" Keith asked, fetching a familiar pair of objects from inside of the lockbox. One was a worn out set of dog tags, which he put on, tucking them inside his shirt, and the other was the knife he always carried. He frowned, staring at it for a few seconds before he sheathed it at his back. There were other items in the box too, but Keith ignored them, shutting it.

"It's... kind of a long story." Shiro said, glancing over towards Pidge. "I've been helping Pidge here out with a project of his."

Keith's brow shot up again, but this time he opted not to say anything, instead looking Pidge's way. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Pidge said stiffly. "I knew there was something fishy about the Garrison's claims, right from the start, so I went looking for answers. Once I realized that there was no evidence of any crash on Kerberos, I began looking into what _had_ happened."

"And somehow that lead you to aliens." Lance said.

"Laugh all you want, but we've got living proof now that I was right." Pidge said, pointing towards Keith.

Keith, in response, went stiff, turning several shades paler. "Proof? Why would I be proof?"

Pidge frowned, staring at him like he was some kind of an idiot. "You literally escaped from alien captivity. How are you _not_ proof?"

"Oh," Keith blinked, seeming to relax, "-right. Yeah. That."

Pidge stared at him for a few seconds longer, before he shook his head. "Anyways, the reason we're all out here is two-fold. I've been monitoring alien radio chatter, and Shiro found some weird caves. The latter seemed to indicate that something was going to happen tonight, so Adam and Shiro came out here to investigate. And then the chatter started going crazy-"

"Wait," Keith said, "-weird caves? What weird caves?"

"They have all these carvings of lions." Shiro said.

" _Blue_ lions, to be exact." Adam added.

If he thought Keith was alert before, then it was obvious he had his full attention now. "Show me."

"What?" Shiro blinked.

"Show me where the caves are." Keith said.

"Wha- _now_?" Lance asked. "It's like, pitch black outside."

"You don't have to come." Keith said, looking his way with a frown. "This doesn't involve you."

"Oh no, I am not backing out now after I've come this far." Lance said.

"I don't know, Lance..." Hunk trailed off, twiddling his thumbs. "I mean, these are _aliens_ we're talking about here. Maybe we should just let the professionals deal with them?"

"The professionals?" Pidge asked, casting a skeptical glance towards Hunk. "Who? The Garrison? Their response to the existence of aliens so far has been to _ignore_ it."

Keith just heaved a sigh, clearly impatient. Whatever it was about the caves that had caught his attention, it was clearly important. "Look, you can all come. But we need to move now. The faster we find what it is the Galra are looking for, the better."

"The Galra? Are those the aliens?" Hunk asked.

Keith just wordlessly nodded, before looking back towards Shiro. "Well? Can you show me where the caves are or not?"

Even as someone who had gotten used to Keith's sometimes brusque tone, Shiro flinched. Realizing that he'd overstepped, Keith took a step back, drawing in a deep breath.

"Sorry." Keith said. "It's just- this is important."

"I can already tell that much." Shiro said, getting to his feet. "I can show you the way. It's not far. We could probably walk there."

"Any chance you've got like, a flashlight in this dump?" Lance asked.

Keith frowned, considering the question. Wordlessly he made his way across the shack, opening a worn looking trunk. He rifled around it for a few minutes, before he produced a large flashlight. Checking the batteries, he tossed it to Lance, who scrambled to catch it.

"Just the one, huh?" Lance asked.

Keith just shrugged, shutting the trunk. "You don't have to come."

Lance just frowned, seeming more set than ever on coming. Heaving a sigh, Keith resigned himself to the extra company.

"Fine." He said. "Let's move."

* * *

Keith explained more on the way- or tried to. He didn't seem to know much either, only that he had been told that the Galra were looking for something called the _blue lion_ , and that it was some kind of superweapon. Hence, his interest in the caves.

He seemed to know a fair bit more about the Galra Empire, though- and with each detail he provided, Shiro kind of wished he didn't. An alien empire so vast that it spanned several galaxies was tough enough to wrap his head around as it was, without the added fact that it's current ruler, a Galra known as Zarkon, had been its Emperor for the past _ten thousand years_. It almost sound made up, but he trusted Keith.

Even if he _was_ being awfully cagey about a few details- namely, who had told him about the blue lion in the first place. From the sound of it, they had helped him escape the Galra, which made Shiro wonder if _they_ were Galra. It seemed an odd detail to be elusive about, since in any regime there were bound to be a few who didn't follow the crowd, but he was sure Keith had his reasons.

He kept periodically glancing over towards Pidge, who sometimes periodically glanced over towards him. The few times their eyes met, it was usually Pidge who looked away first. There was something else going on there too, but he wasn't sure that was any of his business.

He was just glad to have Keith back. When he'd heard about the failure of the Kerberos mission, he hadn't wanted to believe it. He didn't think someone like Keith could _fail_.

But everyone else sure seemed ready to believe it. An ex-mercenary with no formal flight training should have never been allowed up there in the first place, much less at the Garrison at all. Admiral Sanda had taken heat for it, but she'd been swift to pin the blame entirely on Commander Holt, who obviously couldn't say anything in his defense.

Adam had stuck by him, but he hadn't found anyone else who had believed him. Not until he met Pidge, at least. And while his theory about aliens had seemed far-fetched at first, he couldn't deny that he had compelling proof. Finding the caves had only cemented it.

"You okay?"

Jerking his head up at the sound of Keith's voice, Shiro realized he'd been rubbing his right wrist. He wore a cuff there now, designed to help stimulate his muscles and keep them loose. It was one of the treatments for his disease, and while it had been effective so far, he knew eventually it would become less and less so. Still, that probably wouldn't happen for another ten, fifteen years or so, and with graduation right around the corner, that gave him plenty of time to forge a career for himself as a pilot.

He just wished it could be longer.

"Yeah." Shiro smiled. "I'm fine."

Keith frowned, his eyes glinting strangely in the low light provided by the flashlight. "Just wanted to be sure. It's been awhile."

"Do you think I'd let him go gallivanting around the desert in the middle of the night if he wasn't?" Adam asked. "Someone in this relationship has to have common sense."

Even after knowing him for a few years, Keith's laughter was somehow always unexpected. The low chuckle Adam's jab earned was no exception. "Sound logic."

"Wow," Shiro huffed, "-so you trust Adam's judgement more than mine?"

"When it comes to your health?" Keith asked. "Yes."

"You _do_ tend to push yourself." Adam said.

"Ugh," Shiro crinkled his nose, "-you're both impossible."

"Thanks." Keith said, even as Adam said, "-you're welcome."

They trekked in silence for awhile after that. Or close enough to it- Lance and Hunk, who were bringing up the rear occasionally whispered to themselves, but it was never loud enough for him to hear. He suspected Keith could, because every so often he'd angle his head back to look at them, and the whispering would quickly stop.

He never looked outright annoyed, but Keith either wore his face like an open book or like a mask, with no in-between. He suspected it was more of the latter tonight.

He had so much he wanted to ask him- about his scar, his hair, any number of things. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, at least, not with other people around. Keith was a private person, and in spite of spending a fair amount of time with him, he only knew a precious few things about him- like how he was an orphan, or how he'd grown up in the desert. How in spite of liking bitter things, he also had a sweet tooth, and his eating habits, as Adam described them, were atrocious.

The trek from Keith's shack to the caves wasn't a long one, but it still felt too short when they arrived. He stopped abruptly, nearly overshooting them, only Keith managing any semblance of grace at the sudden, unexpected stop.

"We're here." Shiro announced.

Lifting the flashlight, Lance pointed it at the mouth of the cave. "You're sure this is the place?"

"What, did you think it would have a neon sign out in front of it or something?" Pidge asked, gesturing towards the entrance. "Alien superweapon here?"

Lance huffed, glaring at him. "No. I just- you know what, nevermind. Why don't we just go inside?"

Keith just nodded, almost effortlessly picking his way down towards the cave. He made it down in half the time as the rest of them, everyone else carefully picking out safe places to step. The sun began to peek over the horizon just as Hunk made it down, but they could barely see it from where they were.

Keith trudged on ahead, stopping just short of the entrance, waiting for them to catch up. He sniffed the air, a habit of his, and frowned slightly. "I smell water."

"Are you sure?" Adam asked, taking a whiff himself. "I don't smell anything."

"All I smell is cave." Hunk reported.

"Maybe there's groundwater?" Pidge suggested.

"I don't know." Shiro said. "I've never seen any water. Just the carvings."

Lance shone the flashlight into the cave, illuminating the entrance. They were still hard to see in the dark, but the cave and its numerous lion carvings could just barely be made out. It was enough to impress, at least, as his fellow cadets wandered in with a certain sense of awe- all save for Adam, who'd seen them before. As the sun rose higher over the horizon, it illuminated more of the cave, increasing the sense of wonder.

"They're everywhere." Keith mumbled from in front of him, having gone much deeper into the cave than anyone else dared to in the dark. With the light starting to filter in, Shiro caught up to him, everyone else carefully following suit.

"Who made these?" Pidge asked.

"Native Americans, maybe?" Lance suggested.

"Do we even _have_ lions in America?" Hunk asked, warily glancing over his shoulder like he expected one to pop up right then and there.

"We have mountain lions." Keith said, fingers tracing one of the carvings. "But I don't think these carvings are about an _actual_ lion."

"Kinda dusty, aren't they?" Lance asked, moving to wipe away some grime from the closest carving.

Pidge opened his mouth to retort, only to hastily snap it shut. The carving suddenly began to glow, blue light lighting up the cave as the other carvings joined it. Then no one had the chance to say anything, because the ground underneath them suddenly opened up, and the next thing he knew, they had all been dropped into a small pool of water.

A small pool of water in front of a _giant, robotic blue lion._

"No way," Lance said, stumbling to his feet and staring at the lion in awe, "-it's actually _real_."

In spite of the implication that he'd made everything up, Keith didn't say anything in his defense. He just staggered to his feet, staring at the lion with wide eyes. It was being protected by some kind of barrier, which provided the only light in the otherwise dark cavern. The flashlight that Lance had been holding had shattered into pieces on impact, all of which were already starting to be carried away by the underground river to who knows where.

"This is incredible." Pidge said, surging forward. "This _has_ to be what they were talking about. This is the Voltron."

"It must be." Keith half-whispered, a certain quiet reverence to his voice that Shiro had never heard before. He closed the gap between himself and the lion, gently resting a hand on the barrier that protected it. "How do you think this works?"

"Maybe you just have to knock?" Lance suggested, before doing exactly that.

Once again, a retort from Pidge died in unspoken in his throat. The barrier burst apart in a surge of light, and in that moment, he saw it- the true form of Voltron. It was beyond anything he could have imagined, and yet for some reason, it seemed almost painfully familiar to him.

"Did you guys all see that?" Lance asked, pivoting on his heel to glance frantically back at them. Shiro found that he could only nod, still in awe over what he'd seen.

"Voltron is a robot," Hunk breathed, "-Voltron is a huge, awesome robot!"

Keith just muttered something underneath his breath, his eyes not leaving the lion. Turning towards Adam, Shiro found his boyfriend's face screwed into a frown.

"Is everything okay?" Shiro asked.

"I didn't see anything." Adam admitted. "Are you sure you guys saw something?"

"Oh, we did." Lance said firmly. "We _definitely_ did. I think it wants us to-"

Lance didn't get to finish what he was saying, cut off by the lion itself. What he'd thought was simply just a ship stood up and roared, the sound filling the cavern and nearly drowning out Hunk and Pidge's cries of surprise- or maybe fear.

But all Shiro could feel was awe.

* * *

Things happened in swift order after that, leaving very little time for them to think, much less stop to breathe. They had all loaded into the blue lion, which Lance had decided to take for a test spin- and if Shiro was going to be honest, proving why he was a cargo pilot and not a fighter pilot at the same time, but he kept that to himself.

(Keith didn't, but he wasn't exactly known for having much of a filter.)

Then the next thing they knew, they were in Earth's orbit, and there was an alien ship bearing down on them. Keith had recognized it as being Galra, and only seconds afterwards, it began firing on them. They had been successful in luring it away from Earth, making it all the way to Kerberos in just a few seconds, far faster than any of their ships could go. They only managed to escape pursuit by slipping through a _wormhole_ of all things, and only then did they all get the chance to catch their breath.

They had landed in front of some kind of castle, though it was unlike any castle Shiro had ever seen. It was no less regal for it, the glowing blue of the spires providing a stark contrast to the white. It was massive, towering well above both them and the lion alike, creating almost as much of a sense of awe as the lion had.

Only Keith seemed to be on his guard, narrowing his eyes at the sight of it. Unspoken, he put himself at the head of the group, even though Shiro knew he typically lagged towards the back. He didn't like showing his back, and old habits died hard.

The castle itself lead the way, illuminating the path which they should take. They followed it, heading deeper in, the castle silent and eerie, like they were the only ones there. It wasn't until they arrived at where it was leading them that they discovered this wasn't the case.

For all that they were in a Castle, Shiro hadn't expected a princess. Nor had said princess expected them.

If Shiro felt wonder at meeting an alien princess, then the only thing this _Princess Allura_ felt meeting them was despair.

The paladins of old were dead, and her home lay in ruins, destroyed by the Galra Empire. Everything and everyone she knew and loved were gone, in what was to her just the blink of an eye. But in that despair, she turned to them and saw something in them- and that despair turned into hope.

"Voltron is the universe's only hope." She would tell them later. " _We_ are the universe's only hope."

He just hoped he was ready to _be_ that hope.

* * *

"Hey, you okay?"

Shiro glanced up at the sound of Keith's voice, offering the older man a weak smile. "Just tired."

"Who wouldn't be, after today?" Keith asked, collapsing on the couch next to him. Almost everyone else had gone to bed already- Adam had lingered a bit longer than the rest, but eventually had sensed Shiro's need for privacy and had left.

"It _was_ pretty hectic, wasn't it?" Shiro asked.

Keith frowned, tucking his left leg up on the couch. He rubbed at his knee almost idly, not dissimilar to the way he rubbed his own wrist.

"Is your leg okay?" Shiro asked.

"Huh?" Keith blinked, glancing down at it. "Oh. Yeah, it's fine."

It felt like a lie, and though he was tempted to press, he forced himself not to. Keith had just escaped from the Galra- he wasn't sure if he was ready to open up about what he'd experienced while he had been their prisoner. According to Pidge, the prisoners that they had rescued had called him Champion, and had seemed extremely wary of him, but he knew Keith too well to let that effect his impression of him.

"So how's your...?"

"Fine." Shiro said, resisting the urge to rub his wrist. "Adam made me promise to talk to Coran tomorrow, if he has time. If _we_ have time. I have a feeling we're going to go through some pretty intense training in the near future. Allura seems... intense."

Keith snorted. "Can't be any worse than Sanda."

Shiro just chuckled, enjoying sitting in silence with Keith for a few minutes. For his part, the newly minted red paladin let out a loud yawn, but made no move to actually head to bed. They had all been provided quarters by the princess once the chaos had died down, but Shiro had only briefly been in his. He was still pretty wired from today.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Shiro asked.

"Hm?" Keith frowned. "You mean my leg? Like I said, it's-"

"No, not that." Shiro shook his head. "I mean... you have the most experience here out of any of us. You should be the black paladin."

Keith let out a bark of laughter, so loud that it startled him. "I've never lead anything in my entire life, and I don't think it's a good idea to start now, when the fate of the universe is at stake. Anyways, I don't think it works like that."

Shiro frowned. He knew Keith was probably right. The lions chose their paladins- that's what Allura had told them. But it still didn't feel right to him that he should be the leader. He was just a cadet. Sure, he was only a handful of months away from graduation, but a cadet was a cadet.

Even if part of him was jumping at the chance to be black paladin. Eighteen felt awfully young to be worried about his legacy, and yet... time had always felt so _finite_ to him, ever since his diagnosis. And what would be a better legacy than leading the force that helped free most of the known universe from tyranny?

"You never know," Keith began, pointedly looking at his right wrist, which Shiro realized he'd been rubbing again, "-these Alteans seem pretty high tech. They might even be able to come up with a cure."

"Maybe." Shiro said. "I just don't want to get my hopes up."

Keith shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that."

It was tempting, the thought that these aliens, these Alteans, might be able to _cure_ him. To live his life free of his disease... even if it wasn't bad yet, he knew one day it would be. But if they couldn't... well, he just didn't want to be let down. Better to manage his expectations.

"I should probably get some sleep." Shiro said, getting to his feet. "What about you?"

"I'm going to lurk around a bit longer." Keith told him. "Are you sure you didn't want Allura to give you and Adam a double room?"

Shiro flushed a dark color. "Double rooms only have one bed."

Keith just arched a brow. "Ah."

"I'm just gonna-" Shiro began, motioning towards the door. "Goodnight, I guess?"

"Yeah," Keith smiled, "-goodnight."

* * *

Keith's smile dropped as soon as Shiro left the room. Once he was sure he was gone, he pulled out the transponder from his belt pouch, turning it over in his hands.

He knew he needed to contact Ulaz like he'd promised, but the situation was a lot more complicated now. At first, he thought he'd just find the blue lion and report it's location to him, but things had gone way past that. Now not only had he found the blue lion, but he'd also located the four he hadn't even known existed when Ulaz had sent him back to Earth- and what's more, he was a _paladin_.

Heaving a sigh, Keith tucked away the transponder. Ulaz could wait at least another day, until he decided what to do. He didn't want to sneak around behind Allura's back, but the way that she spoke about the Galra... he might have to.

Not that she didn't have every right to. Hell, he wasn't sure if he fully trusted Ulaz himself.

He was already lying to the princess and to everyone else anyways, if only by omission. He was part Galra, a fact which was bound to come out at some point. Those aliens that they had rescued today doubtlessly knew the truth, and he wouldn't be surprised if Sendak had known too. There was never any shortage of commanders coming to see his matches. He had a reputation.

And just like his reputation on Earth, it was a bad one.

Running a hand through his hair, Keith heaved a sigh. That wasn't even the worst part of all this.

No, the worst part was the fact that he was back in a war again. It was bad enough when he was just a prisoner, but it just seemed like his destiny to never be away from war for long. And while this time he was undeniably on the right side of it, it didn't change the fact that it was still war.

Even worse, this time he'd dragged _children_ into it- one of whom was only _fourteen_. As far as he was concerned, that made him the absolute _worst_.

Heaving a sigh, Keith got to his feet. He might as well sleep while he still could, though he somehow doubted he would. Maybe come morning, he'd be able to make a decision.

Unless he wanted the decision made for him, he would have to.


End file.
